Disclaimer: If I owned them do you think I'd be writing fanfiction. I think not.
Summary: Sequel to Come What May/Split Second. Takes place five months after Dean left Tree Hill. Dean's back, accompanied by Sam this time around and while the brothers wreak havoc on the hearts of the Tree Hill females, a murder mystery keeps them occupied.
Notes: Yes, it's been a year since an update. But I noticed that this part which was wrote last year hadn't been added. Oops. D:
Swept to Ruin: Chapter 7
They didn't speak as Dean drove, not that either of them knew what to say anyway. The days since their reconciliation had fared well, but Peyton was still leery to start any conversation for fear that an argument would ensue. It was no way to maintain a relationship but she'd had her fair share of arguing with Dean since his arrival back in Tree Hill. She was adamant about enjoying the remainder of his visit without having another altercation.
Sam had been around to mediate, but it helped not mentioning the name of Lucas Scott — or any Scott for that matter. Haley had kept her distance as well not wanting to ruffle any more feathers since she was married to the culprit responsible for all the turmoil of the past few days.
So she stared out the window, watching the scenery fly past her as they left town and began inching toward the outskirts of the city. "Where are we going?" she asked when Dean crept out onto the highway and began traveling south out of Tree Hill.
"You'll see," he teased lightly.
Peyton questioned no further. Dean kept his secrets for a reason and this, she assumed, had its purpose. She leaned back against the seat and let Dean drive while the wheels turned in her head as to why Dean was being so mysterious with their destination.
A half-hour later, Peyton glanced across the seat toward Dean as they entered Carolina Beach. "What are we doing here?"
"Well," he drawled, eyes darting from her to the road, creeping to a stop at the intersection. "I got a tip about my dad," he said, his eyes searching both sides of the road for the motel that Caleb had tipped him off to.
After he and Sam left TRIC a few nights ago, he'd gone back to the motel with every intention of staying there for the night and returning to Peyton's the following morning.
However, a frantic phone call from Caleb had kept him from doing so. Caleb admitted to seeing his dad recently, though he feared for John Winchester's safety, informing Dean that his father was getting closer and closer to the demon and as he did so, things had begun to happen.
Their allies were being killed off one by one and his father had been warned to back off. Unfortunately John Winchester didn't scare that easily.
Dean had gone to meet Caleb and found out after a lot of teeth pulling that his father had been in North Carolina, checking up on he and Sam. He'd booked it back to Tree Hill while Caleb followed his father's credit card charges.
The most recent one had been at the Beachside Inn in Carolina Beach. For God knows how long his father had been not twenty miles away. Why would he be trailing them and yet not let them know he was near? Why did the man keep his phone off so that they couldn't reach him? He loved his father, but the majority of the time he didn't understand the man at all.
"How come you didn't bring Sam?"
Peyton's voice broke through his thoughts. He didn't even take a moment to ponder her question. "I wanted to bring you," he answered slowing to a stop as the traffic light turned red. Peyton smiled pleasingly. Dean stretched his arm across the seat, turning his head toward her, saying, "If he was here he's probably gone by now anyway. There was no use getting Sam riled up over nothing. It was worth checking out, though."
Peyton looked out the window, focusing on the people walking on the sidewalk as she told him sincerely, "I'm sorry that you didn't find him."
"When he's ready to be found, we'll find him," he said matter-of-factly, his voice cracking regardless. The light turned green and Dean pressed on the gas, the car lurching forward. "We pick up his trail every now and then, but it always runs cold. He doesn't want us to find him. That's obvious by now."
"Do you at least know why he disappeared in the first place?" The cynical look that Dean gave her told her all that she needed to know. She nodded her head in understanding. She should've known. "He's after it. The thing that killed your mother." And then that's when she got mad. "All you Winchesters are morons, aren't you?"
Flabbergasted, Dean had no comeback. He remained silent until he pulled into the seaside motel that one of his dad's aliases had checked into not more than three days before.
Peyton stayed in the car while Dean went into the manager's office to do whatever it was he did. Ten minutes later he walked out waving a room key.
She pushed open her door and piled out, meeting him on the sidewalk in front of Room 12A. As he unlocked the door, he told her, "He paid up until next week."
Pushing open the door, he ushered Peyton inside first, taking a look around before he stepped inside, closing the door behind himself.
The room was far from the state that he and Sam had found their dad's room back in Jericho. It was neat and tidy and the only thing that remained was a note on the bedside table with his name on it.
Dean swiped up the note, reading it aloud. "Stop." John Winchester needed little words to get his point across and Dean knew exactly what point his father was trying to make.
Peyton eyed him curiously as he crumbled the paper into his fist. "Stop what?"
"Looking for him," Dean said smoothly. "He's told us to stop before, but he's our dad. We're gonna look." He fell down onto the bed dropping his head into his hands. Sometimes he felt like he and Sam were on a fool's mission.
Maybe they'd never find their father. Maybe that was the point.
Feeling the bed dip he looked to his side as Peyton reached under his arm for his hand. "I'm sorry I called you a moron," she apologized. "It's just … you guys put yourselves in harms way for what? Have you ever thought of not doing what you do?"
"Of course we've thought about it," he conceded, entwining his fingers with hers. "We all vie for a life that we can't have, Peyton. But, yeah, Sam and I have talked about it. For us, though, it's not just about hunting this demon. It's about saving people and hunting these things that are hurting and killing people. We like what we do and we're good at what we do." He paused for a moment, then murmured under his breath, "I wish you'd stop ridiculing me for it."
She grimaced. That was how she'd come off. "I'm not ridiculing you, Dean," she insisted, rising to her feet. "I just … don't you guys want more than living out of suitcases and putting your lives on the line? You told me that you don't share who you are with very many people. If that's true then the people that you help are oblivious to who it is helping them. You don't get recognition for what you do. You're not firefighters or police officers. You don't get a pension if you get shot or your face plastered on the ten o'clock news to be thanked for your heroic act. It's just… it's just another day on the job."
"Are you finished?" he asked, his jaw set, ready to wail.
"Hardly," she quipped. Seeing the flash of lightning in Dean's eyes, she backed down and fell onto the bed as he began to pace the floor in front of her.
"You don't like what I do. I get it." He stopped, turning to pierce her with a hardened stare.
"It's not that I don't like what you do, Dean. It's just…," she trailed off, her bottom lip quivering. "It scares me." Tears slid down her cheeks, but she was quick to brush them away. "Your hunting scares me." There. She'd said it.
Softening, Dean sat beside her on the bed. It took him a moment to find his voice. She'd finally admitted to what he'd known all along. "I wasn't naïve to think that being with me wouldn't affect you." He took a moment to think, dipping his head as he mumbled, "It was the New Orleans thing, right?"
"I never blamed you for what happened," she assured him. "You told me how dangerous it could be and I didn't listen. I got a good glimpse of what you deal with on a day-to-day basis and while you were gone I thought about what had transpired in New Orleans constantly. I feared that you were by yourself and…" she stopped shortly, taking solace in Dean's arms.
Dean buried his face in Peyton's hair, muttering, "I'm sorry for … for everything. I never wanted you to worry."
Peyton summoned a smile. "No matter what you do and where you are, I'll still worry about you. When you feel the way that I feel about you, you can't help it."
Pulling back, Dean tucked her hair behind her ears, meeting her eyes as he told her, "Same here."
Peyton was quiet for a few minutes before she met his eyes, confessing, "Just because you were out of sight, Dean, you were never out of mind. I worried, but I somehow knew that you were okay."
He gently touched her cheek, wishing that he could erase the past few months. His dad wouldn't be missing, Sam would still be at school, Jessica would be alive and Peyton… well, she wouldn't have pined after him knowing who and what he was.
"I should've never put you in that position." He averted his eyes, whispering, "I shouldn't have come back." As Peyton opened her mouth to disagree, he added, "But I couldn't stay away from you."
Eyes watering, Peyton wound her arms around Dean's neck, her cries stifled into the hollow there. It was as close to Dean admitting his true feelings she'd ever get, but it was enough.
Really, it was plenty.
"Can we stop in at the café for a little while?"
Dean looked over at Peyton curiously, but asked no questions. It wasn't even dusk yet and he doubted an hour or two at the café would hurt anything. He could go for a cup of coffee. Possibly some French fries as well. A burger didn't sound too bad, either.
The sound of his growling stomach made up his mind for him. He swung into an empty parking space, then killed the engine. Together, they piled out, Dean following Peyton into the café.
She made a beeline toward the back to seek out Haley, leaving him standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, eyeing the table where Peyton's friends sat.
Dean wanted to go over. The guys were all crowded around the table. Junk. Fergie. Mouth.
But it was the presence of Lucas that gave him pause.
He wished that it didn't bother him so much. He wanted to brush everything aside and pretend that things were still how they were last summer. But that wasn't reality. The shooting and everything that had happened since then was embedded in his memory and it wasn't something that he was bound to get over anytime soon.
Lucas had pretended to be a friend, an ally and yet had blatantly lied to him for months. Everytime he'd ask about Peyton he would say that she was fine, but she was far from fine.
Dean ground his teeth just thinking about it.
When Dean didn't approach the table, Skills came to his side. "Man, you and Luke still ain't talking?" Skills sighed, obviously perturbed with the situation. Well, he wasn't the only one.
Dean nodded his head, leading the way toward the counter, telling Skills, "I'm trying to deal with it, but I'm not quite there yet."
They took seat at the counter, Dean picking up a menu to peruse the contents. As he was trying to decide between a burger and curly fries or just the burger or just the fries or both or something totally different with less grease, Skills, said, "Look, Dean, if it had been me and Peyton was my girl and she'd told some other guy that she loved him, I'd still be mad at that guy, too. But you need take a step back from the situation and realize who she's with." Skills motioned to Peyton standing near the kitchen with Haley, her eyes occasionally shooting toward them, more specifically to Dean. "And who she has eyes for."
Dean glanced over his menu at Peyton who smiled at him before returning her attention to Haley and whatever conversation they were having. He let the menu drop, tapping his fingers on it grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Skills was grinning himself. "So you told her yet?"
Alarm setting in, Dean snapped, "Told her what?"
"How you feel," Skills said pointedly. Did he have to write it on a Post-It and stick it to Dean's forehead?
Dean silenced, not wanting to discuss his feelings for Peyton with Skills or anyone else. He had clambered from this conversation with Sam many a times. When he was ready to talk about his feelings he would talk about them with Peyton and no one else.
"Dean!" Dean spun around, never more appreciative of Sam's horrible timing. Sam wasn't alone, however. Nathan was trailing at Sam's heels. "Hey I need to borrow the car," Sam blurted out, glancing from Nathan to Dean.
"Why?" Dean questioned even as he dug in his pocket for the car keys.
He tossed them to Sam who caught them mid air. "Thanks."
As Sam turned toward the door, Dean stood up. "Whoa, whoa, where's the fire?" He looked from his brother to Nathan, asking, "Just where are you going in my car?"
Peyton appeared at his side, wrapping her arm around his waist as Haley said, "They're off to the bus station to pick up my sisters. And Nathan's car isn't big enough to hold them and their luggage."
Sam expected Dean to say something further, but all he said was, "Well, what are you still doing here? Go!" Sam needn't be told twice. He flew out the door quickly, muttering a thank you.
Nathan lingered, however, fighting to find the right words to express his regret to Dean over being the source of his recent troubles with Peyton. As he opened his mouth, Dean assured him, "No hard feelings," with a comforting pat to his shoulder. At the sound of the car horn, Dean gestured to the door. "I think Sam's waiting for you."
Nathan smiled thankfully, then fled the café.
Peyton was surprised at how easily Dean had forgiven Nathan. She wished he'd treat Lucas the same way and just brush everything away, but that wasn't the kind of person that Dean was. She assumed that he forgave Nathan because he had to. He and Nathan weren't what he'd call friends whereas he and Lucas were. It was different when you were hurt by a so-called friend; she knew that better than anyone. "That was big of you," Peyton whispered in his ear, leaning her head against his shoulder.
Dean shrugged nonchalantly. Letting Nathan off the hook for telling him things that Peyton hadn't wanted him to know was one thing, but forgiving Lucas for what had occurred in his absence was quite another. "Well don't get any ideas in that pretty little head of yours. I'm not…," he said, trailing off to shoot a look towards Lucas. "I'm not."
"I wasn't even going to suggest it." Peyton refused to push the Lucas issue, especially with one small pertinent detail hanging over her head. Tugging on Dean's hand, she prodded, "Come on. Let's get out of here."
"And go where?" Dean asked, incredulous. "Sam took the car."
Peyton huffed. Had he no sense of adventure? "So what," she said flippantly. "There are other ways to get around, you know." She gently kicked his leg.
"Is that your way of telling me we're going for a walk?"
She simply laughed as she took him by the hand, and pulled him toward the door, Dean groaning behind her.
"What's with all the fidgeting?" Sam asked, quirking an eyebrow at Nathan. The boy was as white as a sheet and looked like he would keel over at any given moment.
They were sitting on a bench outside the bus station awaiting the bus that contained Haley's two sisters. Unable to take it anymore of Nathan's odd behavior, Sam questioned whether or not Nathan had a problem with Haley's sisters.
Nathan shot Sam a sincere look, but continued to jiggle his leg nervously. "Sorry, man, it's just… the last time one of Haley's sisters visited I realize that I'd slept with her."
Sam's eyes widened as he nodded his head. "Oh."
"It was back before I even knew Haley, but it kinda freaked her out. And this weekend… well it's very important to Haley and I just don't want it to be overshadowed by another shocking surprise from my past."
Sam sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He dropped his head into his hands. It had been nothing short of a roller coaster ride since he and Dean had arrived in Tree Hill. Dean had acquired a mini-family in the teenagers. And it was weird. He had never seen his brother fit in so well with a group of people. They were freaks by circumstance, but here Dean just… it was like he was right at home.
He had felt like he'd belonged at Stanford so it was a relief to know that his brother felt like he'd belonged somewhere as well. Dean put a good front the majority of the time, but he knew that his brother had despised the way they grew up as much as he did.
Banishing his wayward thoughts, Sam turned to Nathan, asking, "So… you think you slept with the other sister?"
Nathan shifted uncomfortably, expelling a deep breath. "God I hope not."
Yeah, that wasn't very comforting, Sam thought wryly. He snapped his head up when a Greyhound pulled to a stop in front of them, brakes squeaking.
When the doors opened, he and Nathan scrambled to their feet. And waited.
